


That day

by nanasteiger



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Future Fic, Kinda, M/M, Martino is in love always was and forever will be, just bits from the first clip of 5th episode seens by martino in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasteiger/pseuds/nanasteiger
Summary: The first time Martino woke up next to Niccolò it felt like magic. It felt like a miracle.-Years after that first impossible morning spent in Niccolò's bed, Martino still like to relive those moments when he knew he was in love with Niccolò.





	That day

**Author's Note:**

> I am sad for the last clip, I am sad because I tried to write and something really sad came out. Now I am a little bit less sad because I was able to actually sit down in front of a computer and write at least 1000 kinda sweet words about my boys, my sons, my loves Martino and Niccolò. I just want them to be happy and in love.  
> Enjoy :)

The first time Martino woke up next to Niccolò it felt like magic. It felt like a miracle. The duvet was warm but Niccolò’s breath, right next his face was warmer, his eyes were still heavy from the sleep that was slowly slipping away, the hand on his face was cold as if Niccolò just left it on the pillow all night, just there, for Martino to grab whenever he wanted. The first time he had the luck of waking up and having Niccolò face _just there_ , at kissing distance, it felt impossible, he couldn’t believe it. 

That same day, the first of many incredible days with Niccolò in his life, they had a lot of first times. They were throwing them away like it was nothing, the first time they had breakfast in bed together, the first time they had a pillow fight, the first time they tried to break the record of the longest kiss in history. His lips felt chapped and so soft at the same times. He remember thinking that he just wanted that for the rest of his life, just one more kiss, longer this time, to breath him more, to taste him better. 

That was the day he realized that he was already so damn in love with Niccolò and just for that first day he didn’t want to feel afraid of that love. If Niccolò were to ask he’d say that he fell in love with him the first day they spent the afternoon at his place, playing with puppets and eating shitty pasta, and that with just those couple of hours he was already head over heels for that beautiful boy. He’d say that he knew he was already in love because when Maddalena arrived and kissed him he though that only love could hurt so much. He wa in love but he wasn’t ready to accept it yet. But the day he woke up next to Niccolò, the day he kissed him whenever he wanted, the day they talked and touched and laughed, that was the day Martino just couldn’t deny it anymore. He loved him. He loved him, he loved him, he loved him so much. He would have done anything for Niccolò, he existed simply to look at him, to held his hand, to touch his beautiful face, he wanted nothing more than to cherish him and make him feel appreciated, that day he loved him. 

Looking back at that day, at the day Martino felt for the first time since too long at peace with the world in the arms of a boy he loved, Martino feels a little bit sorry for himself. He remember the hopelessness of the days after, the heartbroken of the weeks that came, the naivity of those hours feeling in love without knowing almost nothing of Niccolò and at the same time being sure that he was the only person in the world that could really be himself with. Thinking about that day, the day Niccolò kissed him with the sweetest devotion, the same day Martino burned for the first time with a passion he has never felt before, Martino can’t help but think at all the days in the last years he woke up next to him and how much his life has changed. 

There are days, long days when Niccolò is tired and foggy and Martino can’t quite reach him still, in those days Martino sit next to his boyfriend and tells him about the first time they slept next to each other. He tries everytime to remember a different details, he tells him about the smell of coffee in the air that stayed with him all day because of the little heart he drew on his arm, he tells him about how impossibly small he felt in his arms when he hugged him placing his head under his chin, he tries to explain to him how accepted he felt that day for just being allowed to talk without having the need to keep himself on check. Sometimes Niccolò acknowledges him and adds some bits of his stories, details he doesn’t remember well – _we just watched half of the first episode and then we kissed_ and _there weren’t chocolate chips cookies_ \- and then turns back to sleep or to watch the same spot on the ceiling he was looking at before, but Martino is happy just to know he knows he’s there. 

His favorite story to tell about that day, about the day Martino felt like he could cry from happiness and his cheeks hurt from smiling too much, he saves it to Sunday mornings, for those slow hours when the sun is still not high enough and breakfast can wait and outside is too cold and Niccolò’s freezing hands find their ways under Martino’s shirt. He tells that story again and again, nose to nose with the love of his life, smiling lazily, between kisses. He tells that story when he look at Niccolò and falls in love a little bit more.

He tells about the moment when Niccolò, after breakfast, after the computer, the ukulele and the talks about being the last two men on earth, Niccolò still had that strange sad look in his eyes and after a long pause just looked at him, as if he was empty. But when Martino tried to smile at him, just a little, Niccolò’s mouth just followed him and smiled back. Then his eyes and then his whole face was smiling because Martino was smiling. And then they were laughing and then Niccolò took his face in his perfect hand and kissed him once, twice and said thank you. “Why are you thanking me?” he remember saying. His voice was broken by the laughter and muffled by the kisses. 

“Thank you for bringing me back. I was sad, alone in my head, and you brought me back.”

That day, Martino didn’t really know what he was talking about, he didn’t ever really care. He was happy to have him back and just loved him.


End file.
